


A Dovah Goes to Middle Earth

by rhoenix



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-04-22 06:24:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14302773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhoenix/pseuds/rhoenix
Summary: Paarthurnax is informed by his father that he has a "reward" for his deeds performed - naturally, this "reward" involved going to an unfamiliar land, and dealing with unfamiliar people.





	1. Death, Screaming, and Strange Creatures

Even in this place of mists and memories called Sovngarde, beings persisted. Heroes and common folk alike, for great deeds or small quiet ones could be found here, in this afterlife of Skyrim. People still made at being alive, with feasting and dancing and societies.

For those much longer-lived however, it was simultaneously a respite from a hard life, and a condemnation.

For Paarthurnax, the Second-Born of Akatosh, who at this moment was staring off into the distance of Oblivion from the edge of Sovngarde, this juxtaposition was more true than most. He had had difficulty adjusting to a life past that of living, being very attached to his form and what it meant to him, despite his experiences of the same. The revelers off in the distance made the corners of his mouth curl up into a half-smile, but he made no effort to get up and join them.

"Still brooding about your brother, I see," a deep, echoing voice reverberated from his side, revealing itself to be a dragon twice as large as he. His father, Akatosh, was both father of Time and of Dragons, and seldom made himself known, even in Sovngarde.

At this, Paarthurnax sighed, a part of him wishing he could feel it. "I did what must be done Father, and kept up my duty for my entire life since that moment. My experiences are my reward enough, I suppose."

"I did not help you in this destiny of yours so you could brood afterward, my son. You are not a chicken, and you should not act as one," the great deity of dragons said with disdain. "I have arranged a reward for you, as I promised."

Confused though interested, Paarthurnax focused his attention on his father. "I thought being a part of events in the way they unfolded was my reward. Was it not?"

It seemed that even deities could sigh in annoyance. "No, Paarthurnax. I am going to send you to a place where I feel you are needed."

Paarthurnax, despite not having a physical form any longer, still expressed skepticism. "Duty is to be my reward?"

"Yes," the deity rumbled with satisfaction. "I have already made arrangements with the gods there - they made a plea for a champion of light, and though at first they did not see things my way, they did eventually," the great dragon elaborated smugly.

This did not reassure Paarthurnax in any way, shape, or form, and he couldn't help but ask. "...Is this a place on Nirn, father?"

"Indeed not," Akatosh rumbled. "In point of fact, it is a place that has never seen a proper dragon."

Paarthurnax's skepticism began to multiply. "Then how is this to be my reward, father?"

"You've sat in that spot and brooded ever since you died, my son," Akatosh growled. "The powers that be where you are going were... cautious, but I helped them to see reason. This will benefit both you and they."

"Do I get a say in this choice, father?" Paarthurnax asked tiredly.

"Not in the least, my son," Akatosh's voice echoed, as the mists around Paarthurnax began to thicken into an impenetrable wall. "My blessings go with you, however! Learn to enjoy yourself!"

Just as Paarthurnax was beginning to grow even more annoyed, he realized he could feel bitingly cold air rushing past his face, under his wings, and along his body. This meant he could feel again! With shock, he opened the eyes he now had again, realizing that he once again had both to see with, and saw that he was falling from the sky.

Reveling in the sensations that only came with being alive again, Paarthurnax unfurled his massive wings, and used them to guide his fall. Whispering words of power taught to him by his father and refined steadily through his own studies, he could now feel how far away the ground was, despite not being able to yet see through the thick clouds. Far below him, but rapidly growing closer were clusters of life, moving in ways that seemed to indicate a conflict - and that was when he heard the scream that could have only come from a human or elven woman.

Sighing to himself, Paarthurnax folded his wings close to his body once more, and dove. Through the magical connection with the ground that he'd forged, he mentally counted until he was close enough, and then unfurled his wings once more and changed his free-fall to a swooping dive.

The clouds began to clear below him even as his dive began to even out, allowing him to see much more detail. With eyes well-used to hunting prey at distances of greater than a few paltry miles, he could see what appeared to be two blonde elves being menaced by small, strange, misshapen creatures that resembled particularly unfortunate-looking orcish children.

One of the elves had seen him, and were staring at him with wide, frightened eyes, while the small and strange creatures evidently hadn't yet noticed the massive shadow his form cast upon the ground. Deciding to make a proper entrance, Paarthurnax evened out his dive to swoop only a few man-heights above their heads, and used his wings to drastically slow his speed enough to land on all four limbs.

Hearing an unfamiliar word shouted in caution, Paarthurnax tilted his head to the side, and invoked his will to hear their words, and make sense of them. Once it took effect, he resisted the urge to roll his eyes, as of course the shouted term was "dragon," with some added shrill shrieking for good measure.

Looking at the two rather different groups of beings upon this snowy and nameless mountaintop, Paarthurnax observed the raw terror present in both of them - the scent of fear was boiling from all of them in waves, in stark contrast to the deep snows on this mountain. Looking further, he saw that the larger group of beings were the smallest in stature - rags for clothes, mismatched weapons, and misshapen bodies. The smaller group, now consisting of two members, were both blonde elves - one armored, though harried by the smaller creatures; and one an unarmed innocent in this conflict - an elven woman of some stature, it seemed.

Well - this situation was simple enough to figure out, he thought as he stalked toward the two blonde elves. It seemed that none of the beings dared to move or speak while he was present, their terror only growing stronger - well, that was simple enough to navigate, once he was sure what was happening here.

Wordlessly, he glared at the four smaller beings surrounding the blonde elven woman as he lifted a hand, now glowing blue - and watched with satisfaction as the four of them lifted into the air as well. With a careless flick of his hand, the four of them flew through the bitingly cold air to land in the snow drifts near their fellows. That finished, he examined the two with a practiced eye. 

The one wearing armor had been served well enough by it, though the wound on his arm and on his back ensured that he wouldn't be much of a protector until he had recuperated. The woman however had evidently had her outer clothes torn off by the smaller creatures - something that enraged him, though he was careful to not show it in his demeanor just yet - and was sporting several wounds, at least one of which appeared to be poisoned.

His lips moving quietly, he recast the magic that allowed him to understand other intelligent beings as if they were all speaking the same tongue. That done, he looked at the blonde warrior. "You are wounded, warrior. Be still," he said, as he extended an open hand toward the elf.

The warrior's eyes opened comically wide, but he did indeed hold still, watching with horrified fascination as Paarthurnax's hand began to glow a soft whitish-yellow. His will focused toward weaving magic of healing, Paarthurnax sent that energy coursing into the elf's form. The elf gasped in shock as wounds began to rapidly close and seal off, allowing him to move without pain. Paarthurnax held the spell until he was certain, and then nodded once. "There," he said with satisfaction. "Keep watch warrior, I would prefer to not be interrupted while I help your friend."

"I am sworn to defend the Lady Celebrian with my life, dragon," the elf said cooly, but nodded once. "I will keep watch."

"Good," Paarthurnax replied, already beginning to examine the female elf, much to her consternation. "See if you can find some proper clothing for her while you're at it," he added after a moment, seeing the chill beginning to settle into her flesh.

Lifting his head to the sky, Paarthurnax closed his eyes as he focused his words of power in exactly the form he wished. "YOR," he said softly after a moment to the sky, feeling the air around them rapidly increase in temperature, so that the elves wouldn't freeze. Returning his attention to the female elf, he held a hand over her form, letting his magic whisper to him about what ailed her physical body. Deciding to start with the poison, his hand glowed a bluish-purple above her, and a moment later she grimaced in pain as a dark liquid began to seep out of the wound, and fly upward toward his hand, the ichor collecting into a dark and flowing sphere. 

Once the last of it was out, he flicked his hand, sending the dark ichor scattering across the snow. The nimbus of light surrounding his hand then changed to a whitish-yellow, and the wounds upon her legs and body began to rapidly close, and seal as if they'd never been. That done, he gently extended a finger toward her for her to grab onto.

The female elf looked confusedly at him for a moment, but reached out, and slowly got to her feet. The warrior attentively gave her some spare winter clothes he'd managed to scrounge from their scattered belongings, and Paarthurnax nodded in respect.

"Now," he said, turning around, and aiming a baleful gaze at the smaller creatures still here. He began to stalk towards them with lazy, unhurried strides, but his intent was very clear from how he moved. "I see only a few of them, and many of you. Why did you attack them?"

The beings looked at one another, as if conferring, and one spoke up. "O Great one, we..."

"Call me that once more, and I shall turn you into a pig, and then feed you to a bear," Paarthurnax growled. "Why did you attack them?"

"Well... uh... this here is our territory, see," the small creature replied with what it likely thought was a winning smile, showing many misshapen teeth. "They hafta pay the toll."

"Oh?" Paarthurnax asked, looking around exaggeratedly. "I don't see any roads, signs, or shops. That almost makes me think you're nothing more than brigands," he said idly, though his gaze seemed to burn unblinkingly into the speakers'.

"Th-they can't just walk through our territory and not pay!" one of them shouted.

"And how much is this toll of yours, then?" Paarthurnax asked calmly, but his tail was beginning to twitch back and forth.

"Half of everything they have, o' course," the first speaker replied, with another grin.

"Well, half of everything I have is fire," Paarthurnax said, glaring at the speaker. "I'd better pay up now - I hate to be accused of being late on debts."

"We bring you gold! Riches! Shiny things!" one of them shouted fearfully. "Helps us against nasty elves!"

The massive, sandstone-colored dragon stared at the one who had spoken for a silent moment before giving his answer, the world around him trembling as he did. "FUS!"

The wave of force was very briefly visible in the cold mountain air, moving so fast that the wind itself rippled in its passage. It was as if a massive gust swept the small creatures off their feet, and flung them backwards far and hard enough that they bounced off the hardened snow when they finally landed, an impressive number of paces away. They slowly began to get to their feet, moving away from the scene as best their battered bodies could carry them.

"Now," Paarthurnax said with satisfaction, turning back to the two elves, and observing their terrified expressions with an internal sigh. "While those... creatures will leave you be for a time, it is likely they'd venture back out once they discovered some illusion of bravery," he said disgustedly. "Are the two of you able to resume your journey unmolested?"

The two elves looked at one another, and began to have a rapid, though quiet discussion in another language - not knowing that Paarthurnax's magic allowed him to understand it just as well as he could understand the first they'd spoken.

"We have been thrown from drowning river to devouring forest fire," the woman said, shaking her head. "I had not believed there would be worse we could encounter in the Misty Mountains than goblins, and I lament our foolhardiness that we did not. The dragon used _magic_ , Elarien! Two different kinds, if my eyes did not deceive me! Oh, woe betide us."

"Regardless milady," the soldier said, straightening his spine, and watching Paarthurnax as he spoke to his elven companion. "There are those that must know what has occurred."

"That presumes we will be capable of walking down the mountain now," the woman said, with a glance at Paarthurnax.

"He can understand us, milady," the soldier said, with a stare at Paarthurnax. "He understands Quenya," he said to her, and then turned to face Paarthurnax, speaking in the same tongue. "Do you not, dragon?"

"I can," Paarthurnax replied calmly in the same language. "But I will not chase you."

"Then, at least allow us to repay you for your kindness," the woman said, her arms opening in a grand and diplomatic movement, no doubt normally intended to inspire trust and calm. "We can offer you the remainder of the gold we carry in exchange for your kindness, dragon."

"I am Paarthurnax," the dragon said with a small smile, and a nod to her. "I appreciate the gesture of kindness, but I have no place to put the gold. Please keep it with my blessings."

The woman slowly blinked, and looked as if she were attempting to gather her wits to speak more, when the soldier stood next to her, and gave a small bow to the dragon. "Well met, Paarthurnax. This is the Lady Celebrian, daughter of Galadriel, member of the White Counsel, and wife of Lord Elrond of Rivendell. I am Elarien, sworn to her safety and defense. On behalf of Rivendell and the Golden Wood, we thank you."

Paarthurnax restrained himself from making a joke at her expense regarding her grandiose titles, and simply nodded once. "Well met to both of you. Will you both be able to reach your destination without escort?"

The soldier seemed to straighten even further, if such as thing were possible. "We will be safe, as long as we make good time."

"Very well," Paarthurnax nodded to them. "Good journeys to you."

With that, he observed with wry amusement as the two began making their way down the mountain as if a dragon were chasing them. Shaking his head for a few moments, he got to his feet, and walked toward the edge of the sheer cliff on the side of this mountain, spread his wings, and dove off.

Closing his eyes for a few moments, Paarthurnax reveled in the feeling of air rushing past his skin, the cold mountain air feeling so much like his old abode's had, it made him homesick. With a sigh, he opened his eyes, and gained altitude to learn more about this new place in which he found himself.

Further south, he espied a grand river, and decided that a good wash might do him some good. Aiming his flight in a gentle dive, he landed with barely a sound, despite his size, and walked into the river. Admittedly, he may have splashed like a dragonlet might a few times, but he supposed he was allowed the indulgence.

What caught his surprise once he emerged once more from the water was a large bear, watching him from the underbrush on the side of the river. Paarthurnax sighed, as this seemed to be one more bit of strangeness in this strange, new land.

"I suppose a dragon bathing in your river is unusual, friend bear?" Paarthurnax asked out loud, something about the bear reminding him far too much of the Companions, and their wolf blood back in Skyrim. "I do hope you don't mind sharing today, friend bear, as I have the stench of greed and stupidity on me, and I would prefer to have both washed away."

The bear snorted softly, but still loudly enough for Paarthurnax's sensitive ears to hear it, the noise conveying quite a bit of meaning when uttered by such a being.

"No, I don't normally bathe in such things, but thank you for your boundless concern," Paarthurnax replied archly. "Perhaps in turn you can explain a riddle - how can an elderberry bush hide a fully adult male bear?"

The bear made a snuffling noise, followed by a grunt.

"Yes, you discovered that I have a terrible and deep abiding fear of elderberries," Paarthurnax sighed weightily, rolling his eyes. "By the Light, friend bear, you must carry the wisdom of old to know such a great and well-kept secret."

The bear made a huffing noise.

"Well, the great and abiding power of elderberries must be all that's restraining me from attacking you," Paarthurnax said with a sagely nod. "Obviously, if elderberries weren't involved, I wouldn't be able to resist my powerful predator's urges."

The bear uttered another huffing noise, and shuffled out of the bushes, and onto the bank of the river.

"Goodness, now that those terrible and accursed elderberries aren't hiding you, I can see you now," Paarthurnax said with feigned surprise. "Amazing - as if the power of elderberries prevented me from noticing you at all."

The bear barked once at him, followed by a huffing noise.

"Goblins?" Paarthurnax asked the bear, squinting his eyes as he did. "Small, misshapen creatures that look like orcish children of ill-repute?"

The bear barked once more at him, snuffled a moment, and then made another huffing noise.

"If you expect to be able to hold a detailed conversation of the various peoples inhabiting your lands, friend bear," said Paarthurnax with a sigh, "perhaps you'd do me the honor of assuming a form capable of detailed speech?"

The bear barked once, and shook his head.

"I don't believe you," Paarthurnax said with a glare. "Every single skin-changer I've met has tried the same stupid excuse," he said, shaking his head, and suddenly assuming a wide-eyed, innocent look - something that looked hilariously out of place on a draconic face as old as his. 'No, we're oh so restricted when we change forms! We're all completely at the mercy of something else!'"

The bear barked annoyedly at him once.

"Oh, do tell, friend bear - can you only assume another form at midday, at the end of the week, and only after an elk defecates near you?" Paarthurnax asked sarcastically. "Or perhaps, you have to imbibe a special food that you keep secret and safe, it being the sole secret to how you can change other forms - but it only works for you, and only when others aren't looking?"

Without fanfare, the fur on the bear began to recede, as it stood on its hind legs. The form steadily continued to change, revealing a large, wild-looking man after only a few more moments., who spoke in a gruff voice shortly after the change was complete. "I haven't met many dragons - are all of them as annoying as you?"

"Only to skin-changers who sincerely think they're being clever," Paarthurnax retorted, and then looked thoughtful. "And of course wizards who somehow think they understand how the Weave works after only a few short years of study," he added, shaking his head.

"You find wizards a concern, do you?" the man, and former bear asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I find them an annoyance, most of the time," Paarthurnax replied, after sinking further into the river, to not make the skin-changer nervous. "Most of them are the weak and spindly types who think that reading a book somehow makes them better than those that till the soil, or work a forge," he continued, shaking his head. "Self-important twits who become unreasonably giddy after tiny bits of knowledge, half of them are."

"You know, there are a few wizards known around these parts," the former bear said, with feigned nonchalance.

"You have my condolences," Paarthurnax replied, with feigned sympathy.

The man, formerly bear, glared at him. "None of the three I'm thinking of are young, or inexperienced, dragon. I would not be so arrogant, were I you."

"If any of them were as impressive as you seem to think they are, they would have shown up to speak with me before now," Paarthurnax retorted. "Either they're cowards who let others do their work for them, in which case they are unimpressive wizards and simple old men whose fears have teeth, or none of them have noticed thus far, and are therefore unimpressive wizards. I used magic four times just today - surely they would have been able to notice that."

The man opened his mouth, closed it, looked pensive, and then asked a question with a suspicious look. "Are you saying you can do magic, dragon?"

Without a word, Paarthurnax raised an eyebrow ridge at him for the temerity of asking, held up a single hand, and a soft, cold magelight appeared above his palm. With a wave of the same hand, the small, bright magelight suddenly turned into a flickering flame, then a sphere of water, then a round orb of earth, and finally an orb of water once more, which splashed downward into the river. "No, of course not," Paarthurnax said flatly, at last. "That would be silly."

The man's eyes widened, and he took a step back.

Paarthurnax rolled his eyes. "If I wished to harm you, friend bear, I wouldn't bother with conversation first. Besides, I make it a point to not eat anything that can speak."

"I have never seen or heard of a dragon such as you before," the former bear said slowly. "In the past, when large beings of unusual power appeared, it was to the detriment of all decent folk."

"And all of them followed this pattern, did they?" Paarthurnax asked curiously.

"Especially the dragons," the bear nodded slowly. "I'll admit that none of them were capable of magic, but all of them craved power."

Paarthurnax raised an eye-ridge at the former bear. "One might say that if one does not use power capable of dominating others to instead expand one's knowledge and understanding, then one is a craven coward."

The former bear snorted, sounding very much like his ursine form. "And I suppose you don't like gold, either?"

The dragon blinked, looking confused. "...Why would I want gold, specifically?"

The former bear gave him an equally strange look. "Because it shines nicely?"

Paarthurnax''s confused look changed in a heartbeat to a flat look. "Are you telling me dragons here are irresistibly drawn to gold because it's shiny?"

"Well, yes," the former bear shrugged. "All the ones we've ever heard about craved it as a noble child craves cake."

"Why?" Paarthurnax asked, squinting at the former bear. "It's too soft to be useful for much, and it tends to flake everywhere over time," he said, before pausing, and looking thoughtful. "I suppose you may wish to use gold when you think you'll need to be dealing with lightning with any degree of regularity, since gold is fairly good at conducting such things. That's a very strange question, friend bear."

"That's an equally strange response, friend dragon," the former bear replied with a smirk. "Are you attempting to tell me that if a large pile of gold were to appear right here, you wouldn't try to make a bed out of it?"

Paarthurnax blinked, confused, and nearly certain he'd misheard the former bear. "A... bed? Do people normally sleep atop piles of gold, like a foolish noble convinced it's all about to disappear?"

"No," the former bear replied, looking confused, but equally determined to solve this mystery. "That I know of, the dragons sleep on piles of gold, so the gold coins and gems will act as armor for their underbellies."

Paarthurnax looked at the former bear for a few moments, stupefied, and then began to loudly laugh. He laughed hard enough that he collapsed onto his side in the river, his wings twitching as he lost himself in mirth.

The former bear crossed his arms, looking annoyed. "That wasn't meant to be comedy, dragon."

At this, Paarthurnax only laughed more helplessly, but managed to regain enough of his breath so he could reply properly. "Are you certain, friend bear? That was one of the funniest things I've heard in more than five hundred years."

The former bear squinted at him. "You have arms."

Paarthurnax raised an eye-ridge at him.

"You have arms, and hands, even," the former bear continued to muse. "That's most unusual of all."

Paarthurnax stared sharply at the former bear. "Are you telling me that none of these winged calamities you speak of had arms or hands?"

"None of them did," the former bear replied, looking at Paarthurnax more interestedly.

"You just compared me to wyverns, friend bear," Paarthurnax replied flatly. "Please don't throw such an insult at me again, as I wouldn't compare you to a skin-changing rabbit."

"Come to think of it, I haven't seen you breathe fire yet," the former bear mused.

"All of them could breathe fire, I'm assuming?" Paarthurnax asked, looking tired. "No arms, can barely hold a conversation, can barely fly, attracted unreasonably to shiny objects, and responds to all sensory input with fire - those are wyverns, friend bear. I'm not surprised you've dealt with them, but I am surprised that they've been this much of a problem."

"So if someone presented you with a large pile of gold, you wouldn't lose all reason?" the former bear asked again, persistently.

Paarthurnax gave him a strange look. "You have an unusual fixation on gold, friend bear. As I said, I suppose it could be useful if one is attempting to be pretentious, or if one is planning on dealing with lightning with any degree of regularity, but I don't crave it."

"Is there something that someone could offer you that you do crave, friend dragon?" the former bear asked, with forced nonchalance.

"Books, I suppose," Paarthurnax replied, looking thoughtful. "I am a stranger to these lands, so books of maps, histories of various lands and their peoples, old folklore, old artwork - that sort of thing. I'd be able to learn quite a bit from those."

The former bear closed his eyes, and massaged the bridge of his nose for a moment. "I can't believe I wasn't able to see this before. You're a wizard."

"I suppose I'm a student of magic," Paarthurnax said, with a smirk. "However, calling myself a 'wizard' sounds a trifle pretentious."

"Definitely a wizard," the former bear said with a sigh. "I don't know why I'm surprised."

"That's alright, I understand that you've had a rather unusual day," Paarthurnax replied sympathetically.

"Yes, and I thank you for it," the former bear said, an expression on his face somewhere annoyance and a friendly smirk.

"Right, I see your less-than-subtle hints," Paarthurnax replied with a smirk. "I'll be on my way, then. I mean to come back to the mountain back there, and... introduce myself to the... goblins, were they?"

At the former bear's nod, Paarthurnax nodded in return, and continued his thought. "Yes, I believe I need to have a nice, long discussion with them about the proper needs and hallmarks of a society. Speaking of which, how did you manage to acquire those shackles on your wrists and ankles, friend bear?"

The former bear's eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms, the manacles in question clanking slightly as he made the motion. "Tokens of esteem from those who managed to turn myself and my family into slaves."

"Enslaved, you say? By whom, friend bear?" Paarthurnax asked mildly, but the very idea of such things occurring still enraged him. A holdover from dealing with his brother, he supposed.

"Those very same goblins in the Misty Mountains," the former bear replied. "By the time I managed to escape, all the others appeared to be dead - or worse."

"I see," Paarthurnax replied, glancing at the mountain in question for a moment before turning back to the skin-changing bear. "In that case, friend bear, I feel compelled to show them how displeased such a thing makes me."

"Why?" the former bear demanded. "Why in Middle Earth would a dragon care?"

"'Middle Earth?'" Paarthurnax asked, his head tilted to the side. "What an odd name - we don't appear to be underground, friend bear."

"Cease changing the subject," the former bear growled. "Why would you care?"

Paarthurnax looked at the skin-changer evenly for a moment before replying. "Where I come from, my brother desired to destroy, and then devour the entire world. He was fated to be an ending to that world, just as others were fated to stop him," he said, shaking his great scaled head. "I was not strong enough on my own to challenge him, so instead, I learned to draw upon every single talent I had. After that, I made sure every being he looked down his nose upon was capable of eventually standing up to him with blade, with bow, and with magic," he said, before pausing once more. "I suppose you could say such things tend to make me wish to cause immense amounts of trouble and catastrophe for those who would dare to crush or exploit others for their own petty gain."

The former bear squinted at Paarthurnax, though kept his arms crossed. "So what would you end up doing about it?"

To this, the former bear was rewarded with seeing a large dragon sigh. "Are they a displaced people? Did they come to these lands to escape from something, or simply to cause trouble of a brigand's nature?" He shook his head. "It doesn't matter in the end, I suppose - they enslaved you and your family, and are attacking passers-by. I'd likely make a dramatic entrance, and convince them that there are better places elsewhere that they may wish to explore - with alacrity."

After a moment, the former bear grunted. "Just make sure the mess you make doesn't come back and splash this way, or on the elves. They'd be very upset with you if they had to clean up the aftermath of trouble you caused."

"Why, friend bear," Paarthurnax said, holding a hand to his heart, attempting to be the very picture of injured innocence, "you're speaking as if I'm the embodiment of calamity."

The former bear grunted. "You're a dragon, and a wizard. The answer is 'yes' to either, but more than doubly so for both."

"You have indeed met those who use magic before, I see," Paarthurnax chuckled, as he began moving through the river to the opposite bank. "I am Paarthurnax, friend bear - I wish you well, and I hope to bring you good tidings before long."

"A wizard indeed, with that name," the former bear grunted. "I'm Bjorn. Wizards are well-known here for causing trouble almost as much as they solve problems. Don't follow in their footsteps."

As the dragon reached the opposite bank, he shook himself free of the water. "How many wizards do you have in these lands?"

"Three," Bjorn replied thoughtfully, "though we have heard tales of a Necromancer."

Paarthurnax paused, and looked at Bjorn thoughtfully. "I do hope those Wizards don't call this Necromancer their ally."

"And what would you do about it if they did?" Bjorn asked with a snort.

Paarthurnax raised an eye-ridge at the skin-changer, and tilted his head to the side in amusement. "What do you suppose I would do to those who would defile and raise the dead for their own ends, or those they consider allies?"

"Fire?" Bjorn guessed.

"Well," Paarthurnax replied thoughtfully with a shrug, "fire is useful enough, I suppose, but I've always been more partial to lightning. It tends to be more precise in the right hands."

"Wizards," Bjorn sighed. "I should have guessed."

Paarthurnax chuckled, and unfurled his massive wings. "Fare you well, friend Bjorn," he said before leaping into the sky. 

Gathering his power, he projected it into a Shout as his feet left the ground. "FUS RO DAH!" he called. In response, he flew directly upwards into the air as if shot from a bow, his speed only beginning to slow once he had reached a height twice that of the treetops above. He shouted it once again, and shot forward toward the mountain just as swiftly, disappearing into the distance rapidly, even to Bjorn's sharp eyes.


	2. The messes made by good intentions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One never drops a stone into water without expecting ripples.

The descent down winding mountain paths seemed to be scarcely an obstacle now, Elarien thought wearily as he escorted the Lady Celebrian out of the Misty Mountains. The cold mists began to thin as the two moved at almost a full marching pace, the Lady keeping the pace far better than the Warden thought she might be capable of.

Then again, he thought with a slight shudder, they had encountered a being that Morgoth would have considered a pinnacle of all his dragon experiments - were it not for the facts that this dragon evidently knew magic, and wasn't necessarily swayed by base greed. The long gash left by the goblins' dirty and badly-kept weapons along his arm and ribs had healed without even a scar or momentary twinge of pain - he only noticed due to not having to favor any injuries during this march home, as he normally did.

Glancing to his right, he beheld the Lady Celebrian herself - wide-eyed with residual terror of their earlier encounter, forged with the fires of her own will to keep up an unrelenting pace. Elarien was privately amazed - he had suspected that her pace might slow as they began to reach the environs of Rivendell itself, but instead, she began to move ever faster, into a jogging pace.

Increasing his marching pace, Elarien kept exactly one pace behind her and to the left, the better to watch her back even at this blistering pace. Their path led them to the entrance itself, and to the two surprised elves on guard duty at the gate. "Lady Celebrian!" one exclaimed, looking wide-eyed as the two approached. "What has happened? Where are the other..."

"There is no time, friend Vestor," Lady Celebrian said, breathing heavily from her punishing pace, though she hadn't slowed it in the least. "Summon my husband, and ensure that messages are sent to the others of the White Council immediately," she ordered, even as she continued her quick pace to the Last Homely House.

The two guards looked at one another, and then looked at Elarien, who hadn't slowed his pace either. "Are you expecting me to ask you to do differently?" he asked them with a raised eyebrow. "Go."

One of them immediately moved off at a sprint to the library, while the other looked at Elarian, concerned. "What has happened, Warden? What has occurred?"

Just then, a rumbling sound echoed across the dale, coming from the direction of the Misty Mountains. A moment later, the top of one of the mountains seemed to impossibly fly upward, before stopping, and crashing back down along the side of the mountain. Through the dust kicked up and the mists, a massive shape was seen moving toward, and then down into the mountain itself. A loud, thunderous noise reached their ears a moment later, as if a giant had smashed two boulders together.

"That," Elarian said with a nod to the mountain behind them, causing the guard to open and close his mouth wordlessly. "That and more has happened."

Moving off to the Last Homely House behind the Lady Celebrian, Elarien left the stunned guard behind him, though noticed that another elf was walking unhurriedly up to meet him. Elarien withheld a sigh as he kept up the pace, and tried to ignore the other elf at first.

"Elarien!" the elf said, sipping a goblet of red wine, and puffing on a pipe. "I must ask you, what could possibly have occurred to make the good Lady Celebrian run as if her skirts were ablaze, let alone make you look less rigidly stoic than usual? What's the rush?"

No longer witholding the sigh, Elarien nodded once to the other elf. "Glorfindel - I trust this day finds you well?"

"It finds me amused, at the moment," he said, taking a sip of his wine with a smirk. "So?"

Sighing, Elarien rubbed his face for a moment before replying. "I know you faced a balrog, Glorfindel..."

"Several, actually," Glorfindel interrupted with a smirk.

Elarien rolled his eyes, but continued. "Have you ever heard of a dragon that could use magic?"

Glorfindel paused bringing his goblet to his lips, and narrowed his eyes at Elarien. Looking back at the Last Homely House, where the Lady Celebrian was just now bursting in as if chased by an entire pack of wargs, and back at Elarien, who looked as if he'd survived a march through Mordor alone. "That does explain the Lady's hurry," Glorfindel admitted after a moment. "You said this dragon used magic?"

"It was worse than that," Elarien said darkly, with a glance back at the Misty Mountains.

Glorfindel raised both eyebrows at this. "What could possibly be worse than one magic-using dragon in these lands, Elarien? Two of them?"

"Thankfully not," Elarien said, shaking his head. "No, this dragon seemed disinterested in gold when the Lady offered it."

Pausing in mid-sip, Glorfindel looked at Elarien, and then slowly lowered his goblet. "I'm sorry, I must be extremely drunk already to the point of hearing things," Glorfindel said with a sheepish grin. "I could have sworn I heard you say that a dragon didn't find gold appealing."

Elarien shook his head. "He barely glanced at it."

"In that case," Glorfindel said with a shrug, and a glance at the mountains. "Would you and the Lady coming back as if ten thousand balrogs were chasing you have anything to do with that mountaintop flying off, as if someone opened a cooked egg?"

"Well, it didn't before, but it most certainly does now," Elarien said, squaring his shoulders, and marching toward the Last Homely House.

Not to be left behind, Glorfindel walked along with him - much to Elarien's private dismay, who couldn't stop himself from expressing it. "Glorfindel, the Lady and I must only give our reports to Elrond - there is no need for a grand spectacle."

"In your very staid and Warden-ish opinion, yes. Not everyone shares your views, Elarien," Glorfindel said haughtily. "Besides - I get the distinct impression something happened to have wounded your polished pride. My curiosity compels me at this point - I am but its humble servant."

"Just like you're that wine's most devoted acolyte?" Elarien replied archly.

"Precisely," Glorfindel nodded sagely. "I knew you'd understand eventually - just as I will find out what plagues your pride eventually. Actually," Glorfindel paused, examining Elarien's armor, before chuckling. "Does it have anything to do with how you're not bleeding out at this exact moment, with the state your armor is in?"

Elarien's jaw tightened with irritation. "Many things are possible in Arda."

Glorfindel immediately burst out laughing, though managed to calm himself after a moment. "I must ask, friend Elarien - what sort of magic did this dragon use?"

With a restrained sigh, Elarien gave an answer after a moment. "One of the things the Lady Celebrian and I saw him do was fling several goblins as if they were pebbles."

Furrowing his eyebrows, Glorfindel glanced at Elarien. "If that dragon was anything of the size we've seen before, that's not especially a difficult feat - even without magic," he said, a smile forming on his face. "What else did he do? Did he heal your wounds, Elarien?"

Closing his eyes a moment, Elarien clenched his jaw. "Many things are possible in Arda."

Glorfindel had to pause for a few moments more of chuckling, but looked thoughtful once he had. "Yes, this is a mystery, no mistake. I suppose my day is getting better after all!"

"You think of balrogs as fun and entertaining exercise, Glorfindel," Elarien retorted with a glare. "Perhaps you're not the best one to be making determinations."

"Or, with the help of more wine, the one making the very best decisions - one of the two," Glorfindel replied airily as he drank the last of the wine in his goblet. "Besides - I do think having wine will make your tale more bearable - especially with how you tend to tell stories."

Elarian closed his eyes in sheer irritation. "That was one time I referred to a deer like that. One single time, and you have not let me forget it in over seven hundred years. Perhaps you need a new hobby."

"Why would I, when this one is still so very entertaining?" Glorfindel asked, looking perplexed.

"Of course - I've no idea what I was thinking," Elarien grumbled.

* * *

Blocking the entrance to the mountain at the base was simple for Paarthurnax, as was ripping open the cave that held the entrance down into this hollowed-out mountain. No goblin even had a chance of escape, as he methodically moved through the mountain paths, expanding them to fit himself as he did with a rapidity that shocked most goblins into immobility - much to their dismay.

However, despite the winding passages, he soon began to close in on some forms of life that his magic informed him were not goblins. Given what he had learned recently from the skin-changer Bjorn, he made haste toward them, responding to all noises and moves the goblins made with lightning. The goblins never seemed to expect it, but then again, one didn't often encounter lightning indoors, Paarthurnax mused to himself with a smirk.

Finding a corridor off to the side at last, Paarthurnax slowly explored it, finally able to peek one eye to spy inside a small chamber - and felt his jaws clench at the sight and smell of what he beheld. These indeed were not goblins, but the despair and terror coming off them in waves spoke enough of their plight.

Hearing a small voice from within the chamber, Paarthurnax extended his senses to make his hearing stronger - and closed his eyes. "Are we going to be eaten now, momma?"

"Hush, little one," a woman's shaking and terrified voice replied. "It will be all over soon - and then we can be together in the beautiful green fields once again."

A third voice, however, sounded somewhat different - it held tones of resolve still. "That didn't sound like goblins. Hello? Are you going to eat us now? We're dreadfully tired of waiting!"

"No," Paarthurnax replied softly, "I am not going to eat you, or allow anyone else to. In fact, I'd like to help you escape if you'd like."

"More goblin tricks," another voice sighed. "It's not enough that they eat us, they want to give us enough hope to be dashed."

"Perhaps," said the voice with more resolve in it. "Care to show yourself, friend? I hope you'll forgive our distrust, but it has been an eventful few weeks for us."

Stifling a chuckle, Paarthurnax slowly opened the chamber enough to peek inside, and was greeted with stock silence at first. "Oh heavens, it's a dragon," one of the voices said faintly. "Oh good. How... nice. Just eat quickly please, dragon - I wish to get this over with."

"I'm not going to eat you," Paarthurnax said with a raised eye-ridge, though few of them could likely see it in the gloom. "Most of the goblins are gone now, and I'll be finished with the rest shortly. Once I am, I'll remove you all from this place, and take you where you wish to go."

"How interesting, you don't speak like other dragons I've met," the voice with resolve in it spoke up, sounding more curious now. "But, we have no gold with which to pay you."

Paarthurnax sighed to himself. This was a theme in this land that he was not finding especially amusing. "I require none - nor would I demand payment from those I am planning on freeing. Please be patient for me - I will return shortly once the goblins are gone, and I will take you then to safety."

Hearing some very skeptical remarks coming from the chamber, Paarthurnax shook his head, but he wasn't especially surprised. Those imprisoned, especially to become food for the goblins' stewpots, as these seemed to be, were not in the best of spirits. Even so, he moved with alacrity that belied his size, using his senses and his magic to hunt down every last goblin remaining.

Toward the lower chambers, he encountered a large, very fat goblin, and his entourage. Paarthurnax watched with amusement as the large, fat goblin pushed the others between himself and Paarthurnax. "I demand that you save your king!"

Extending a hand, Paarthurnax watched as lightning arced from his fingers, and turned each of the goblins into puffs of acrid smoke and ash. "So," he said mildly to the large goblin, "what demands do you have now?"

"I demand that you release me!" the fat goblin immediately declared. "I am the Goblin King, and I expect to be treated as my station demands!"

"Very well," Paarthurnax replied, flicking a bolt of fire from his hand that devoured the fat goblin's form in less than a moment, and turned it into scattered ash in the breeze a moment after that. "There, your highness," Paarthurnax said mockingly, before moving back up to the chambers where the prisoners were kept. "I have reduced your realm, your rule, and you to ash, as befits your station."

With that done, he returned to the prisoners, and decided to take things one step at a time with them. After all, they'd very likely had a very bad few months. "Very well - the deed is done now," he said softly to the prisoners. "I will have to open this chamber more widely, and then I can move all of you out of here."

Though he heard a few remarks that were decidedly laden with skepticism, he widened the path from the chambers to the main entrance, and then widened the entrance itself enough to allow him to move back out of it with cargo. This thankfully did not take him very long, especially since he knew magic that allowed him to move and reshape earth and stone as he wished.

"Though I'm sure I'm not your first choice of rescue," Paarthurnax said quietly to the prisoners as he returned to them, "I am nonetheless ready to get all of you out of here if you wish."

"W-would it be too much to ask for some food?" the younger voice said plaintively before being shushed by his mother.

His mother hastily added "We are grateful, and would not possibly ask you for anything else, O Great Dragon."

Sighing once to himself, Paarthurnax replied after a moment. "If all of you promise to not call me O Great Dragon, I'll ensure that your trip to freedom is especially swift. Now, I'll have to carry all of your cages to ensure that all of you can get out properly and quickly, otherwise this might take several trips. Once we are clear of the mountain, I will free you."

"Very well," said the voice that still sounded curious. "I look forward to seeing how this unfolds."

Chuckling quietly, Paarthurnax began to gently gather all the cages, using magic to affix them in a chain to his tail for now. It saddened and disgusted him at how few occupied cages there actually were, but once he was certain all had been retrieved, he began to vertically climb to the open mouth of the cave above, keeping his pace as smooth as possible for the rescued prisoners.

After a few minutes, one of the prisoners sighed. "I can smell fresh air. How long has it been since I smelled fresh air, I wonder?"

"Not much longer, if I have anything to say about it," Paarthurnax replied softly. "We are nearly there. It is very cold outside the mountain, but I will shield you from it as best I can."

The prisoners were silent for the most part as he ascended the tunnel, with a quietly whispered YOR from Paarthurnax every minute or so to warm the air for the prisoners. Soon enough, the drifting winds and snows greeted him - with that, he carefully finished his ascent, gently pulling the cages up on the ground around him, and opening them each with a single flick of a sharp claw.

"It's much warmer than it should be, for a freezing snowstorm atop a mountain," the more resolute voice spoke, belonging to an older human man wearing some strange clothing, eyeing Paarthurnax curiously. "Is your fire that hot, that even a snowstorm melts?"

"No," Paarthurnax replied, regarding the man calmly. "I did focus my will into warming the air, so that you may rest here for a few moments without peril."

"Did you now?" the man asked, looking delighted. "Am I imagining things, or did I feel magic from you when you did?"

Raising an eye-ridge, Paarthurnax looked a bit more closely at this oddly-dressed human. "Indeed you did," he said with a nod. "I do not have any food or rations with me to give to all of you," he continued, speaking to all of the former prisoners, "but I can take you where ever you wish to go."

To his mild surprise, the mother and her child stayed silent about her requested destination until after the others had been dropped off a mile or two from the towns from which they came. Distances usually measured in days or weeks were cut down to minutes - but soon enough, all that remained of the prisoners were the mother, her child, and the oddly-dressed man.

"You are not being forced anywhere, young mother," Paarthurnax addressed her as he flew above a large river. "If you have no place to go, then you will not be a burden. As for you," he said, addressing the oddly-dressed man with a small smirk, "though you've peppered me with more questions than younglings normally do, I cannot help but note that you also have not requested a destination. Is there a reason for this?"

"I'm simply curious," the man shrugged, sitting within Paarthurnax's cupped palms along with the young mother and her boy as Paarthurnax flew. "I am content to wait until all are rescued - I too wish for them to be well."

"I don't know if there's any place for us to go," the young mother said quietly. "The one person I can think of who would be kin has not been seen since we all were captured by goblins, many moons ago. I do not know if he lives - many of us have perished in those cages."

"Was his name Bjorn, by any chance?" Paarthurnax asked.

The woman started in shock. "H-how did you know? Yes! Do you know of him?"

Chuckling, Paarthurnax made a gentle turn mid-air to follow the river, as he had a short time ago. "He and I have met, yes - in fact, he was the one who asked that I rescue you. We are nearly to the place he now calls home."

Though the oddly-dressed man seemed to smile gently at this, he didn't say anything else. Paarthurnax began to descend gently, making wide circles to slow his speed, and ensure that Bjorn had seen him.

Soon enough, a large bearded man carrying an axe walked cautiously out of the underbrush. The great dragon angled his descent a bit more, and landed a pace in front of him, gently opening his hands as he did, revealing the young mother and her boy.

"It can't be... Bjorn?" the woman asked quietly, scarcely believing her eyes. "My brother, is that truly you?"

Her boy was far less reticent, Paarthurnax noted. "Uncle Bjorn!" the boy shouted, and took off at a dead run at the large shapeshifter. Tears beginning to stream from his face, Bjorn picked up the boy in his arms, and hugged him closely, enfolding the woman with his other arm into his embrace.

"I had not dared to hope," Bjorn whispered to them both as he embraced them.

Paarthurnax hadn't moved since he'd landed, watching the reunion with a small smile on his face. A moment later, he realized the oddly-dressed man was doing the same thing, and grew curious. "Reunions with loved ones are always joyous occasions, don't you think?" he asked pointedly.

"Oh, I agree completely," the man replied with a smile. "I never thought I'd be uttering these words, but I'm grateful you came along when you did. My own rescue attempt didn't quite work out as I'd planned."

Paarthurnax raised an eye-ridge. "May I ask what your plan was?"

"Well," the man replied sheepishly, taking off his hat and scratching the back of his head, "My plan depended on not being caught, and that didn't quite work."

Narrowing his eyes slightly, Paarthurnax kept his first, second, and third thoughts about this to himself. As he did, he began to note... odd flows of magic tightly woven around the man, that weren't present in others he'd seen in these lands. "You could have escaped, couldn't you?" he asked after a moment.

"I am simply an old man who lives in the forest," the man shrugged with a smile.

This prompted Paarthurnax to immediately examine the man with his full magical senses active, and what he saw made his eyes widen, and then narrow at the man. "I suppose we all have our illusions," he replied at last with a smile.

"I... yes," the man seemed to deflate with a sigh.

"The question is - why do you?" asked Paarthurnax quietly. "I can see what you are. Is the illusion you hold to more important than their wellbeing?"

"To most, I am simply a somewhat addled old man who lives alone in the forest," the man replied with a sigh. "I only make small changes - helping a badger with a broken leg, curing poison, helping someone lost return to the right path to go home. It is more important, it is said, to make sure that the rumors amongst most folk about what magic and wizards can do are kept as gentle legends - a possible respite if you are lost, amongst the unknown dangers. I could not have helped them without endangering what people know."

"I see," Paarthurnax replied, a note of skepticism in his voice.

"I don't imagine you have that problem, and that this must make no sense to you," the man replied with a smile. "I can see and feel from you the same as you must note from me."

Paarthurnax replied with a snort. "I understand the value of crafted legends over time, yes. Given that I was a teacher for such arts however, knowing such arts are simply left as legend for most is... vexing."

"Hey, dragon!" Bjorn interrupted, walking up to both Paarthurnax and the old man, the child still firmly held in his arms, and his sister beside him. 

In response, Paarthurnax looked at the man with a raised eye-ridge. "Yes, bear?"

The child still looked uncertain, as did the young woman, but Bjorn shook his head and chuckled. "I didn't expect that you'd actually go. You didn't make a mess for the elves to clean up, did you?"

"Only if the elves are expected to clean the inside of those caves," Paarthurnax replied mildly.

Narrowing his eyes, Bjorn examined the huge dragon in front of him. "If they did, would they find that lightning had struck indoors? Repeatedly, at that?"

"Such mysteries are possible," Paarthurnax nodded sagely.

Bjorn burst out laughing. "Well, regardless dragon, you've proven yourself to not be a complete flying disaster. My thanks for saving what's left of my family," he said with a nod.

"Goodness, did that hurt?" Paarthurnax asked, squinting at Bjorn.

"What?" Bjorn asked warily.

"Most folk don't look as if they're attempting to pass a stone when they're thanking someone," Paarthurnax replied with a smirk on his scaled face.

"Well, I did write a flowery and eloquent speech, you overgrown lizard, but I left it hidden in some elderberry bushes," Bjorn retorted. "You'll just have to search for it now."

"Oh dear - by the Light, it is forever hidden to me now," Paarthurnax replied flatly with a roll of his eyes. "Oh woe and disaster."

"If you're done pouting about how elderberry bushes are your great and terrible ancient foe," Bjorn said with a grin, "I suppose I owe you one for this. All I ask is that you not ask me to count your many stacks of gold."

"Somehow, I'm sure I'll cope without you," Paarthurnax chuckled, shaking his head. "Very well then, Bjorn. Be good to them, or I'll burn your house to ash."

"I'll be sure to grow some elderberry bushes around my house then, so you can't find it," Bjorn laughed. "I'll make sure my sister and my little nephew here will want for nothing."

"Good," Paarthurnax replied with a smile. "Speaking of mountains, I rather liked the tallest peak in those mountains back there. I suppose I might call that one home for now."

Bjorn gave the huge dragon a deadpan look. "Oh my, a dragon wants to call a mountain peak home. This is a complete and utter surprise - worse yet, I appear to have left my shock and surprises amongst the elderberry bushes, along with that speech I planned on giving you. Oh, woe betide us all."

"I'm sure the fur you shed everywhere will console you somehow," Paarthurnax retorted. "Will the three of you need anything?" he asked in a more serious tone.

"No, this place should serve them well - and if not, I can always add to it," Bjorn said with a smile at his nephew. "My thanks again, wizards," he said, nodding to Paarthurnax and the older, oddly-dressed man next to him.

With that, Bjorn walked his sister and his nephew back to his house, the tension seeming to lift from his shoulders like steam.

A moment later, Paarthurnax turned to look at the older, oddly-dressed man, and raised an eye-ridge. "Do you need anything at this point?"

The man regarded him for a moment, before finally giving the dragon a smile. "No, my home is not far from here, and I am anxious to return to it. May I have your name?"

Nodding once, the great dragon obliged him. "I am Paarthurnax. I wish you and those you care for well."

Giving him a smile in return, the man bowed with a flourish. "I am honored to meet a being such as you, Paarthurnax. I am known as Radagast - I wish you good journeys."


	3. The Repercussive Waves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are made, events are discussed, and felines are confused.

Once the last of those gathered had arrived in the Hall of Fire within the Last Homely House in Rivendell, Elrond tapped the table before him with his goblet to call for order. He gave the people there a few moments before he began the meeting in earnest, though the recent events had shaken him to his core. The very idea of his wife - the mother to their three children - dying to goblins on the way home from visiting her mother was a fate he'd rather not contemplate.

"Dear and wise, we are gathered here due to the events that recently befell Celebrian and her traveling party on their way through the Misty Mountains," Elrond began, catching his wife's gaze for a moment before continuing to convey his love and care without words. "As I have been informed, the majority of her defenders fell defending her from an assault by goblins. That most of them fell to goblins is another matter to address, but what is pertinent to this gathering is what happened to she and Elarien afterward," he said, nodding once to Celebrian.

Taking a deep breath, Celebrian got to her feet. She closed her eyes for a moment, summoning every scrap of courage and wisdom that she'd learned from her mother, so that her voice didn't shake at the memory, or that she might miss a vital detail. After another moment, she began. "The goblins had overcome us and had us at their mercy. Had nothing occurred then, it is likely that he and I would have shared the fate of the others in our troupe."

Glorfindel carefully poured himself more wine from the nearby caskets, and did the same for Elarian, seated next to him. Unlike him however, Elarian did not immediately sample the wine's vintage.

Closing her eyes, Celebrian took a slow deep breath to calm herself, feeling Elrond's warm hand entwining with hers in silent support. "It was then that the dragon arrived. We still know not what had summoned it or its attention, but it swooped down close over our heads before landing. It looked at us and the goblins nearby, and used wordless magic with a single gesture. The effects of this were that its hand glowed the color of the night sky - blues, and purples. The goblins glowed the same color for a brief moment before the dragon idly flicked its hand, evidently forcing the goblins to fly through the air toward their fellows. This done, the dragon turned its attention to Elarien, who had been cut by the goblins badly enough that he could no longer use his shield."

There was quiet snickering coming from the side of the room Glorfindel was seated at. Celebrian gave him an unimpressed look, and continued. "The dragon's hand then glowed a whitish yellow color, the same colors as the morning sun - and to both of our shock, his wounds closed and sealed off as if they had never been. His armor remained rent; I presume the magic only restored flesh."

Elarian nodded once to this to confirm her words, and Celebrian continued. "Next, the dragon noted that I had been poisoned, and used a third form of magic to extract the poisonous ichor from my wounds. To my awe, the ichor appeared to collect in a small sphere below the dragon's hand, and above my body. Once it was finished, the dragon flicked its hand again, sending the ichor scattering across the snow. Its hand then glowed the same yellowish-white color as before, and I then felt all the wounds I had suffered bathed in warm light, cleaned and healing in but moments."

Several hands were rapidly taking notes while she recounted her tale, but Celebrian was keeping her attention on simply keeping herself relatively calm so she could finish telling the story. "The dragon then walked - or, I should say, stalked - toward the goblins,"

"I'm sorry to interrupt, milady," said Glorfindel, who looked not apologetic at all, "but did I hear you say that it walked that distance? Would it not be more accurate to say that it 'flounced awkwardly' toward the goblins, given that being true? Do all dragons not walk clumsily, being perverted creatures of the sky?"

"This dragon had four legs, and two wings, Glorfindel," Celebrian said with a sigh. "It had a build like that of a great cat, and moved accordingly. It appeared to have no issues whatsoever moving on land."

"I find that very disconcerting - but please, continue, milady," Glorfindel replied thoughtfully.

With another deep breath, Celebrian continued. "After reaching the goblins, the dragon inquired of them why they had attacked us. Their reply that there was a toll owed of all travelers of half of all they carried seemed to displease the dragon, who offered to immediately pay up the difference the goblins claimed was owed them with fire."

She pointedly ignored Glorfindel's snickering as she finished her tale. "It then used a fourth sort of magic, very different from the first three, as it was a single uttered syllable - with no accompanying motions of its hands. I do not remember what the single syllable was, but its effects were such that all the goblins were sent flying back as if struck by a gale of mighty winds."

"Can you remember anything else about it?" Glorfindel asked. "Did the ground shake, or anything of the sort?"

"It felt... as if the world itself trembled in anticipation for a brief moment before the goblins were struck, but the ground did not shake," Celebrian answered slowly, thinking about it carefully. "But, I noted nothing more than that. I do remember realizing that the area was much warmer around us than it should have been at that moment in time, as Elarian and I were attacked during a snowstorm, and the goblins had succeeded in rendering most of our clothing useless."

Glorfindel nodded, and Celebrian continued. "Once the goblins were removed from the scene, I offered to grant the dragon a gift of gold in the hopes of currying good favor from it, which it politely refused. Elarien and I discussed the issue briefly in Quenya and Sindarin both, and the dragon appeared capable of understanding and speaking both languages, in addition to the Common tongue spoken by men. We begged our leave, the dragon wished us well - and we returned to Rivendell as quickly as we could."

"A question, milady," Elrond asked his wife gently. At her nod, he continued. "How large was this dragon, would you say? As large as the cold drakes' ilk we've seen from the north?"

"Larger," Celebrian answered instantly. "Compared against the largest drakes I've witnessed, this one was slightly longer from nose to tail, and much more massive. The largest differences were the two fore-limbs, and that it had a build of body quite well suited to being on land - though from what I saw of its entrance, the dragon had no issues with maneuverability in the air of any kind."

Looking around, it appeared that none gathered had any further inquiries, to which Elrond nodded decisively. "Erestor, ensure that messages are sent this information to all members of the White Council, requesting they meet here as soon as they can travel."

Elrond's friend and steward, Erestor nodded once, and left the Hall to ensure that it was done, and done properly.

Nodding to this, Elrond continued. "In the meantime, we have a responsibility to examine what has occurred in Goblintown, and the areas that surround it. I will take a contingent of ten score soldiers, wardens, and rangers with me, and we shall gather additional clues before the members of the White Council arrives. Are there any thoughts or objections to this?"

Seeing and hearing none, Elrond nodded once more. "Very well. We leave before first light. No matter what occurs in the coming days, Rivendell will stand fast. Take heart, my brethren and sistren - we will prevail," he said, making eye contact with each of those in the room.

With that, everyone began to leave the Hall, making their own preparations for the morrow. Elrond took a deep breath as he placed a hand on his wife's shoulder in silent comfort - how close he had come to losing her, indeed. He was grateful to this dragon for that, if for nothing else.

"Well!" Glorfindel exclaimed as he walked out into the evening air alongside his reluctant friend Elarien. "I was fully planning on relentlessly mocking you for being terrified of a rock lizard, but I don't suppose I can, now."

"My heart weeps for your lost opportunities," Elarien sighed. "There may be a day of mourning set across all cities of the Eldar for your terrible loss this day, I'm sure."

"Now, now, sarcasm does you little credit," Glorfindel replied airily. "It is now obvious that something dramatic has happened, and we are only now seeing the signs of its passage."

"Much like your great and storied hero's journey to the privy this past night?" Elarien asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Why, I had no idea my visits to such places interested you so, Elarien," Glorfindel replied, amused.

"I only reluctantly gain such interest when you manage to be so inebriated that you walked off the edge of the bridge, tumbled onto the riverbank, and watered yourself while singing about the wine of Goldolin," Elarien retorted. "An entire shift of guards was required to pull you back up."

"Now, really Elarien - you shouldn't believe these horrible rumors," Glorfindel replied dismissively.

Elarien's jaw clenched in irritation. "I was there with the guards, Glorfindel. I'm certain this was not imagined."

"All that proves is that the river and its banks are now mine by right of conquest," Glorfindel said while nodding decisively.

"In that case," Elarien replied while rolling his eyes, "I suppose you shouldn't be surprised at an uprising against your great and benevolent rule."

"Oh, the masses simply need more wine," Glorfindel decided.

* * *

A small ball of light landed without weight amongst a group of brush grasses, only to leap sprite-like to another bunch. Furred paws pounced where it had been but a bare moment ago, attached to a mountain lion that was hunting this ball of light very intently. The cat pounced at the ball of light once again, only to see it move but a small distance from being able to be pounced upon. The mountain lion's pupil's dilated with attention, and it pounced once more.

A short distance away, a large dragon was lying on his stomach, his hind legs tucked beneath his body. His left elbow rested upon the ground, his jaw resting on his left hand's open palm, while his right had a single forefinger extended. A careful observer would note that the movements made by the ball of light exactly mimicked the movements of the dragon's finger.

"I've never considered using light magic in this way, I must admit," Radagast said quietly, seated next to Paarthurnax, watching the spectacle of a mountain lion gamboling about like a kitten.

"Perhaps you should in the future," Paarthurnax replied quietly, with a small smile. "I've found this to be one of its best uses."

Chuckling softly, Radagast watched the sight before him. "Would you mind a pointed question regarding that which I saw from you?" he asked after a few moments.

The great dragon nodded, looking curious. "Certainly," he said, while watching the mountain lion devoting all its attention toward pouncing upon the ball of light.

Taking a few moments of silence first, Radagast spoke up. "I find myself curious. I can certainly see that you are a mage, but what has me curious is a mark of your heritage."

"What are you referring to?" Paarthurnax asked curiously.

"I note that you and I both appear to have more than mortal heritage," Radagast said flatly.

"Ah, that," the dragon sighed.

"Yes?" Radagast prompted with amusement.

"In the lands from which I come, my father is named Akatosh - the deity of both dragons and time," Paarthurnax explained. "It's far less exciting than it sounds, I assure you," he said, while watching the mountain lion making a complete flip in the air trying to catch the ball of light.

"You don't consider being the child of a deity exciting?" Radagast asked, aghast.

"My thoughts of such things may be clouded by my experiences, I'll admit," Paarthurnax sighed. "I've never found it to be a particularly dramatic or helpful boon, if I'm honest. Magic, on the other hand," he added with a smile, "is far more directly fascinating - not to mention useful."

"Such beings of your ancestry are known here as guides for the rest," Radagast explained, leaning back against a rock to watch the mountain lion more and more frantically attempt to catch light between its furred paws. "Such is my purpose, for instance - while I am cautioned against acting directly against injustices, my responsibility is to be the old, addled man in the forest who, while strange, can still help the lost and overburdened."

Paarthurnax replied while shaking his head. "I agree with your first suspicion of my sentiments."

"What's that?" Radagast asked, though a part of him knew.

"That it makes no sense to me, even after being explained," Paarthurnax smiled. "I understand the need for the non-mortals to be not involved directly with mortal matters, for power always tempts one to use it - but for they and their emissaries to be so far removed, while still here does not seem sensible long-term," he shrugged. "Then again, I am only a few millenia old - compared to some, I'm sure I'm still a youngling."

"If you had your way however," Radagast asked with a twinkle in his eye, "there would be far more users of magic than simply myself and my two brethren, correct?"

"By the Light, yes," Paarthurnax replied fervently as he used his right hand for emphasis, not immediately realizing that he had canceled the mage-light spell he'd cast. "I made sure to set down a formalized system by which knowledge could be built upon and expanded nearly without limit - and I had vastly underestimated the distance others would travel with the knowledge, much to my delight. Seeing what all students of magic do with the practice to push the understanding and knowledge along at each generation is simply breathtaking for me to watch."

At this point, both Radagast and Paarthurnax noticed the mountain lion looking around wildly for a ball of light that was no longer there, to which the cat gave a frustrated and confused growl. Paarthurnax sheepishly waved his hand, causing the mage light to appear once more, and went back to controlling it with his finger.

"Did you observe the knowledge from afar, or did you study more closely?" Radagast asked, curious, while watching the great cat once more attempt valiantly to catch light between its paws.

"About every century or so," Paarthurnax explained, "I'd assume the form of a human, and check on the knowledge and practices of the various colleges of magic, where I come from. I'd never let on that it was me, of course - but I'd see just how the teaching had changed, which concepts were emphasized and which were seen as useless or trivial, which spells were shown to be examples of what methodology, and the like. I deeply enjoyed that," he said with a quiet sigh.

"Why a human, if you don't mind me asking?" Radagast asked, intrigued.

"I suppose I could have tried another form, but human seemed simplest," Paarthurnax said with a shrug. "I think it may be the baby-face humans seem to have compared to elves or other peoples, or their simplistic mannerisms. Whatever the actual reason, I've always been able to blend in much more easily as such, and not be unduly bothered. Besides," he added with a smirk, "people of all species are far more willing to vent what ails them to a friendly stranger in a pub, rather than a large and grumpy dovah on a mountaintop."

"'Dovah?'" Radagast asked inquiringly.

"Ah - the proper name for beings such as I," Paarthurnax explained. "We call ourselves 'dovah,' for good or ill, and our language is 'dovahzul,' in both the spoken and written forms," he said while watching the mountain lion turn a somersault in an attempt to catch the ball of light.

"Oh? Debates must have been interesting for your people," Radagast prompted, looking amused.

Paarthurnax rolled his eyes with an amused chuffing noise. "In dovahzul, the word meaning 'to debate' is the same one used to declare a conflict in any form - to fight, in short. As you can imagine, it made discussions interesting."

Making sure to laugh quietly, so as to not disturb the mountain lion's play, Radagast chuckled. "I can imagine. You are one of the eldest dovah, I take it?"

"Second-oldest," Paarthurnax replied with a smirk. "Not that it seemed to help all that much. I lost the fight to my elder brother about how the dovah would relate to the world, and was banished for my efforts. I felt we should live alongside the other peoples, and he felt that we should treat them as food, you see. So, I spent the next millenium preparing all the so-called 'lesser species' to fight him when he made his next bid for power."

"How did that turn out, if you don't mind me asking?" Radagast asked, intrigued.

"I gave my life at the time so that a mortal born with the soul of a dragon - the very thing that my elder brother Alduin was most vulnerable to, and most dismissive of even being possible - would have the power to kill him," Paarthurnax explained. "In short, I died during the process, but so did he - and he died not to another dovah, as he always expected, but to a mortal. I was quite willing to play my part just so that's how events worked out," he said smugly.

"If you don't mind me saying so," Radagast said delicately, "you don't appear dead."

"No," Paarthurnax said with a sigh. "I was sent here for an unnamed purpose by my father, and only arrived yesterday, falling from the sky as if I'd been kicked out of the nest. In fact, knowing my father, that's likely not far from the truth - it was only then that I discovered that I was alive and whole once more."

"And how are you finding Middle Earth so far, if you don't mind me asking?" Radagast asked, a twinkle in his eye.

Paarthurnax tilted his head to the side, thinking for a moment before replying. "Thus far, not so different, but I imagine that impression may change."

At this, Radagast chuckled quietly, though his shoulders shook with mirth. "Given that you apparently saved the Queen Celebrian of Rivendell from being slain by goblins, when she also happens to be the only daughter of the most powerful of Elven kingdoms, I can assure you that the latter will certainly be true."

Paarthurnax' great head snapped to look at Radagast, looking shocked. "What?"

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this began as just running with a wacky idea I had after reading a few crossover fanfics between various Tolkien works and Elder Scrolls games. However, this setup has much potential comedy, I think - even if this does involve a dovah such as Paarthurnax going to Middle Earth (and causing trouble).


End file.
